Diadem
by rab147
Summary: The days of the Boy-Who-Lived have come and gone, the few of his contemporaries that yet live have become wrinkled with age. Always the exception, a youthful but infamous Harry Potter is commissioned into a desperate dimension-hopping gambit in search of the key to not only Britain's victory in the coming war, but also his freedom.
1. Trip

Diadem

AU. Features a Harry that is not particularly nice. That's the only warning you get! Harry/Fem!Blaise.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Chapter 1

Trip

OOOOO

_"Not sure I can say no with my freedom on the table like this."  
_

_"So you'll do it? You accept this task?"  
_

_"Yes. I accept."  
_

_"Excellent, then let us proceed. Please, repeat after me..."_

OOOOO

Department of Mysteries - Chamber 137

Day of Departure

Harry shivered as the cool smoothness of the Elder wand slid into his hand. An overwhelming rush of magic washed through him as he embraced the Wand with open arms, his new mahogany robes billowing dramatically as he once again felt the power flowing freely through his veins.

It had been three long years since he'd experienced this.

Regaining himself slowly, he next picked up his trusty Cloak. The silk caressed his hands ever so lightly, as it always did since the day he'd received it during his first year. This was no fake, he confirmed, this was _his_ Invisibility Cloak. The Invisibility Cloak.

He couldn't stop himself from grinning as he stuffed the Cloak into a pocket. Being reunited with two old friends within a matter of minutes of each other...it seemed Magic was indeed smiling upon him.

And now for the third.

The ring floated into his hand even as he reached for it, a testament of it's loyalty to him. He slipped on the platinum band, admiring the unmarred Resurrection Stone set into its top for a mere instant before rotating the Stone with a click.

He closed his green eyes against the familiar tingling warmth shooting up his arm. As it passed, he opened his eyes expectantly.

"Ron," he greeted his old friend with a small smile. "Looks like I'm finally free."

The image of his best friend gave him an amused look. "Not quite, Harry," Ron reminded. "What you have to do...well, your chances aren't great."

"He's right, Harry," another voice added, it's bushy-haired owner appearing next to him. "We won't be able to follow you where you're going. None of us will."

"Hermione," he greeted warmly, his expression turning serious. "Yes, I feared that's how it might be. Other dimension and all. Thought I'd say my goodbyes now if I'm not able to return, you know?"

His two friends smiled. "We know," they both said.

"I'll miss our chats," Harry told the teenage replicas, his youthful face now blank. "I know we haven't had them since before I got locked up, but I've missed them."

"We have too, Harry," Hermione agreed sadly. "And we will miss them long after you're gone."

"This is goodbye then," he repeated. "I'd stay and tell everyone, but I don't have much time. Could you...?"

"We'll tell them for you, mate," Ron answered quickly. "No worries."

"Thanks, you guys."

Harry looked away as he turned the Stone back into place with a click. And just like that, they were gone.

"Potter, time's up!" Pucey called out from his position on the opposite side of the chamber. "Abbott, start the channeling...now!"

From his position in the center of the spiraling array of runes, Harry tensed as soon as he felt the energy building up. His gaze fell upon the group of Unspeakables on the other side of the translucent barrier erected around him. Merlin, he hoped they knew what they were doing.

Six of them were chanting. One was meditating. The stragglers just stood back and watched, monitoring their progress.

The amount of magic he sensed seeping into the runes at his feet was enormous, and it kept climbing until the runes became so saturated that even he couldn't stop himself from flinching. And then suddenly it all stopped.

All of the magical energy completely disappeared in the next second.

He gulped as he realized it was about to happ-

OOOOO

He would have screamed if he could have. Black energy sizzled, its unnatural force compressing him on all sides. He'd almost compare it to apparating into a stone wall, but his awareness was rather limited as every cell in his body was being ripped and torn at simultaneously.

It was over as soon as it started, its effects dissipating the following instant. Then there was a rupturing CRACK.

He woke to the feeling of hard stone beneath him and the faint noises of hysteria he was no doubt the cause of. Blinking open his eyes with a grimace, he lifted his head. He let out a groan as he pulled himself up onto his knees.

_He'd made it._

His entire body ached like nothing else though. Quickly checking his person, Harry let out a sigh of relief when he found nothing physically wrong or debilitating. He'd at least managed to stay intact, thank Merlin, and so had everything else. The Wand, the Cloak, the Stone. They were all fine, only his robes would need a good cleaning.

His magical reserves were hurting, however, his core all but depleted. That wasn't really a surprise - he'd been told that was going to happen. The Trip apparently depended heavily on the use of his own magical energy, so he wasn't too concerned. In fact, his reserves were already starting their recovery. A good night's sleep and he'd be as good as new.

All in all, despite his initial skepticism it looked like Hannah and her team had managed to do what they'd said they could.

Ignoring his pounding head, he looked around in an attempt to take stock of his surroundings. The familiar white-tiled hall and the train sitting nearby told him exactly where he was.

King's Cross...

The crowd of Muggles in the nearest terminal staring at him confirmed that he wasn't at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He didn't know whether that was a blessing or a curse.

It seemed as if he'd landed in the middle of one of the station's waiting areas. The main evidence of his arrival was glaring, in the form of a rippling crater of broken up tile and rock. He was of course at its center. A broken pipe spraying water in several narrow geysers and two collapsed columns were also certainly side effects of his rough trip.

_They'd definitely know something was up. Hopefully they wouldn't be able to_ _connect the dots though._

He gathered himself, realizing time was of the essence. He needed to move. The magical intensity of his arrival would have no doubt tripped all sorts of sensor alarms at the Ministry. They'd be here to check it out within minutes.

He decided getting out of this crater should be his first order of business.

As he crawled over the broken slabs of rock, a delayed wave of nausea suddenly assaulted his senses like an overpowered Bombarda. In the next moment he wretched violently, again and again until he was a shaking mess, unsteadily holding himself up on his hands and knees.

"Ahem...sir?" a voice drew his gaze away from the sizzling liquid he'd just expelled from his stomach. Two security guards were cautiously standing on the edge of the crater, their stun guns held out at the ready. "I'm afraid you'll need to come with us."

Harry wiped his mouth, the burning taste of vomit making him want to be sick again. He resisted the urge with effort, standing up to face the guards. The layer of cold sweat covering his body made him scowl.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening," he snapped back, glaring at the two fat Muggles as his wand appeared in his hand. He pushed out a wave of pure magic in their direction for satisfaction's sake, admittedly taking out some of his discomfort on them and blowing them into the wall on the other side of the terminal.

They didn't get up.

Wasting no more time, Harry turned the Elder Wand on himself and cast a strong Notice-Me-Not. Sure enough, as if on cue, the Muggles in the station all turned their attention elsewhere. Most were looking quite confused, but their focus never returned to him.

Next, he'd also need some sort of disguise. Showing his true appearance would not be wise, at least until he knew more about this place. If someone should recognize him, it would be...quite detrimental to his objective.

Stealth was his game here, he reminded himself. Not reckless combat.

After studying a tall, blonde-haired Muggle businessman for a few moments, Harry carefully put a Glamour Charm on himself. That would get him past all but the shrewdest magicals. Feeling those two simple spells were enough for now, he climbed out of the shallow crater with the disgusting aftertaste of vomit still heavy on his tongue.

That was when he heard the sharp cracks that could only be apparition.

Bloody hell, he'd stayed too long. The Aurors were already there! And that meant-

Feeling Anti-Apparition wards in the process of being erected over the train station, he instantly twisted in the hopes of slipping through before they were fully set, but instead ended up stumbling as his attempt to apparate backfired.

Too late. Fuck.

And at present he had nowhere near enough power to rip through them. Bringing those wards down by conventional means was also out of the question, there was no way he'd accomplish it before they found him. It looked like he needed another way out.

Swiveling toward the nearest double doors, Harry began walking briskly in that direction. Maybe he could just blend in with all the Muggles and sneak right by.

He ducked into the stream of Muggles bustling toward the exit just in the nick of time, as two Aurors swept through the doors in front of him only seconds later. Both of them looked around with narrowed eyes, their wands casually concealed at their sides.

Lowering his head, Harry kept pace with the other Muggles as they too moved toward to the doors, coming within arm's reach of the alert Auror pair at one point without incident. He let out an imperceptible breath of relief as soon as he'd passed them by, and sped up slightly a few steps from the double doors, thinking he was home free.

That turned out to be a mistake.

"There!" a rather familiar voice barked from off in the distance somewhere. Harry inwardly swore as he recognized it. "Higgs, Brown! Glamour, behind you! Blonde Muggle!"

Mad-eye. Bloody hell, of course he had to run into the one wizard with the magical eye to see through his Glamour.

Harry didn't take the time to glance back in order to see the two Aurors turn around, instead jerking forward, pushing past several startled Muggles and lunging through the open doors just as a Stunner knocked the Muggle behind him off his feet and another impacted against the door frame.

Stumbling to his feet, he had a split second to gain his bearings before he was forced to jump to the side of another spell, this time shot from his left. On pure reflex, he whipped his wand in that direction, blowing up chunks of the cement floor and using the distraction to take off running the opposite way. The loud cursing he heard behind him told him he'd been somewhat successful in temporarily holding up the pursuit.

Chaos erupted in the train station. Muggles screamed at the sudden explosions and fled, running for the nearest exits. Harry maneuvered through the stampede, fighting to gain ground and doing his best to lose his pursuers. Making it through a large gateway without incident, he turned a corner only to slam right into a burly Muggle man moving in the other direction, painfully knocking them both to the ground. Scrambling back up, Harry quickly stepped over the groaning Muggle and dashed on.

He was sprinting out of the main hall area of the station now, the doors to the outside finally in sight. He could see the daylight through the glass - that was his destination. Once he reached the edge of the wards out there he'd be able to apparate away.

Not slowing down, Harry dug into his robe pocket until his hand wrapped around the Cloak. He was just in the process of pulling it out when his senses suddenly tingled in warning, making him abort that action in favor of twisting out of range of the red spell meant for him.

He veered right as he saw a new group of four Aurors on a course to intercept him from up ahead, but stopped short when three more appeared in his way. Swerving back the way he came proved to be futile also, as his previous pursuers had managed to catch up.

Damn.

He slowly looked around himself, holding his wand steady as he watched the Ministry wizards warily move to surround him in a wide, arching circle.

"Drop your wand, son," that same gravely voice he'd recognized before demanded from behind him. It was one he hadn't heard in over fifty years, its owner being dead and all.

Harry pivoted around to face the man, his expression twitching as the ugly bastard stood a few paces away beside the other Aurors. His eyes confirmed it - Moody was still alive in this place. Like a lot of other people he'd known in the past would be, Harry realized. That was something he'd have to get used to.

The scarred wizard's magical eye twirled as Harry stared back. It was bad that Moody could see through his Glamour, bad as in _could-put his-entire-mission-here-in-jeopardy_ bad, but there was nothing Harry could do for it now. The man had seen him - could see him - with that bloody eye of his.

"I'd rather not, Mad-eye," Harry finally stated, his senses alert in case one of the Aurors out of his sight tried anything funny.

Moody blinked his one good eye, the corner of his gnarled lips curving upward. "Heard of me, have you?"

The man clearly didn't recognize him through the Glamour, which he took as a good sign. It would be less complicated this way. Harry shrugged then, something else occurring to him. "Shouldn't you be retired by now?"

Moody narrowed his eye dangerously, "Are you trying to call me old, kid?"

He ignored Moody's question. The man had no idea what he was talking about. Still an Auror though, that was different. Where he came from Moody had retired long before this time.

"Can I ask why a whole squad of Aurors is chasing me?" Harry eventually asked, his tone level. "I haven't done anything wrong, surely there are more important things they could be doing."

"Oh, I think we both know that's not true," Mad-eye grimly replied. "The level of magical energy we picked up was alarmingly high, not to mention the questionable nature of the magic itself. That right there is one thing, but the breach of the Statute of Secrecy puts you in a rough spot. I don't care what you were trying to do here in front of all these Muggles, son, but whatever it was it wasn't smart."

Harry's jaw tightened, he definitely wasn't off to the best start here. They already knew he'd been the cause of all that magical energy, and they were being overly cautious because of it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said anyway, knowing it was futile but lacking anything better to say.

Moody scowled at the denial. "You're making it worse for yourself by attempting to evade arrest, and lying will get you nowhere. Best thing you can do now is surrender your wand and let us take you in for questioning."

"And if I don't?"

The Auror's face contorted into an ugly grin, "There'll be a cozy cell waiting for you in Azkaban. How does that sound?"

_They'd wanted him to stay under the radar, get in and out with as little attention as possible. Stealth over everything...it seemed like it wasn't going to be that easy. _

He shouldn't have been surprised, it always was harder than it should be when it came to his life. But what could he do? The Fates had spoken. Besides, to be completely honest, stealth never had been his strong suit.

He would, however, have to minimize his magic use. Already he could feel the fatigue that came with magical exhaustion, no doubt due to the Trip, but he'd manage. He'd been in worse situations than this one.

"Not all that appealing," Harry admitted aloud after a brief pause, suddenly dropping his wand. It clattered audibly against the cement floor. "Okay, fair enough. I surrender."

"Wise move, son," Moody answered, the entire gathering of Aurors relaxing their stances at that. "Wise move. Auror Tonks?"

"Sir?" a female voice returned from Harry's right, drawing his surprised gaze. With her hood up, he hadn't realized she was there. Tonks rose her wand arm slightly and gripped it tighter. She already suspected what her mentor wanted her to do then, he could tell.

"Take his wand and bring him in for processing. You other lot, you're dis-"

Harry acted the moment Tonks began swishing her wand, pivoting left as the Elder wand jumped back into his hand and sweeping it horizontally at the string of Aurors on that side of him.

Caught entirely off guard, the five wizards only had time to hear Moody's enraged shout before they were violently blasted away by some invisible force. Their broken bodies crashed to the ground and rolled to an awkward stop not far away. They wouldn't be back on active duty anytime soon.

The remaining Aurors, five including Moody and Tonks, all reacted viciously to the sudden attack on their comrades, sending their own deadly spells at his back.

The entire feeling of the encounter changed right then. Now that he'd attacked, Harry could tell they weren't just looking to capture anymore either. No, they wanted his blood. They wanted revenge.

Well then, he'd just have to return in kind.

Harry turned and sidestepped the first volley of colored lights with ease, as well as twisting through the second and slinging a Bludgeoning curse at the wizard standing in between Moody and Tonks. His hastily erected shield stood no chance, shattering a millisecond before his skull did the same.

One down, four to g-

_Protego._

The translucent shield shimmered into place in front of him just as several blue and orange spells battered into it, courtesy of Mad-eye and one of the Aurors he didn't recognize. It held strong through the worst of the onslaught, but Harry dropped it as soon as he saw an opening in favor of sliding to the right of a particularly dangerous looking purple curse, whipping his wand in Moody's direction to let off a quick Cutting hex.

The man moved out of the simple spell's path without any trouble, but that at least temporarily cut off his constant chain of spells. Mad-eye was by far the biggest "threat" there. The one-eyed man clearly overpowered Tonks and the other two when it came to spellcasting, and he was much faster.

Before Moody could really get started again, Harry waved his wand at two nearby garbage cans and flung them at the man for another distraction. Transitioning quickly, he batted away one of the other Auror's hexes and dodged a sickly-yellow spell from Tonks before aiming downward to blast up the floor into another shower of rocks for them to deal with.

_Hogwarts Four, time to play._

He wasted no time in expertly weaving his wand for one of his favorite tricks, pointing it at the open space in front of him as three lights jumped out. Forming into a massive lion, a raven, and a badger as they hit the ground, the three conjurations leaped forward just as Harry ducked, barely missing Moody's bludgeoner.

Springing back to his feet and diving away from another bludgeoner-reducto combo, Harry rolled up and flicked his wand back at Mad-eye. A serpent shot out of its tip like a bullet, its jaw unhinged and fangs gleaming as it flew straight at the ugly Auror.

To Moody's credit, he evaded rather gracefully, but with the other three Hogwarts animals joining the fray the man had to turn his full attention to neutralizing them. This left Tonks and the other two Aurors at Harry's mercy for a short time.

He smirked.

One of the Aurors attempted to help Mad-eye, while Tonks and the other one fired at him. He spun left, easily avoiding their curses and letting off a cutter meant for Tonks. She blocked it with a shield of her own, but Harry shot off another cutter in quick succession to keep her busy, followed by a blasting hex for the other Auror.

The man was forced to dive away from the destructive spell, leaving him wide open.

_Sectumsempra._

The Auror gasped as the curse hit him, blood spurting out of the numerous slashes. He crumpled to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

"Higgs!" Tonks cried out, her expression turning angry.

She stepped forward, sending a string of furious spells at him in retaliation. He dodged all but the last of them, instead catching the violet colored curse with the tip of his wand. That hue was unique to one spell, the Disembowelment Curse, and that was something he could use.

The purple light crackled in front of him, frozen in mid air. He saw the surprise flash across Tonk's face as he admired it.

"Now this isn't a nice spell to give me..." he commented lightly, his eyes focusing on her's. "Why don't we see how your friend feels about it?"

The female Metamorphmagus balked as he flung the Disemboweler at the Auror near Moody, who had a triumphant look on his face as he and Mad-eye fired simultaneous spells at Harry's conjured badger. Tonks made to defend her fellow Auror by erecting a shield in the curse's path, but Harry blocked her attempt by throwing a couple of rapid jinxes her way and forcing her to dodge.

The man, caught unawares, was hit full on with the purple curse and gave a tortured scream as he fell.

"No!" Tonks shouted.

At the same time, Moody managed to decapitate the roaring lion, the last of Harry's four conjurations. As always, they had done well for him in distracting the enemy just long enough. Call him superstitious, but he fancied the thought that the symbolic nature of the conjurations gave them an edge every time he cast them together.

The short battle stalled then, a stand off of sorts settling in. By this point, the station had long been emptied of everyone but the magical combatants, all the Muggles having fled to safety. Mad-eye and Tonks stood a few arms length apart, their wands pointed at him as he stared back. All three of them were virtually untouched, merely breathing a little heavily from earlier exertions.

"Who are you?" Moody snarled, his expression deadly.

Harry could see the man's reputation as a dark wizard hunter wasn't made up. Truthfully, he had never _really _witnessed the legendary Auror in a fight before now, having been too preoccupied with his own troubles during the few battles they'd fought in prior to the man's death. He especially had never before been on this side of the man's wand.

Tonks glanced at her mentor, "Sir, I d-"

"Quiet, Tonks!" the man barked, some of his anger at the situation seeping into his tone. "Who are you?" he repeated fervently.

Harry shrugged carelessly. "Nobody."

Moody slammed his wooden leg on the ground, his wand visibly crackling. "Answer me!" he bellowed. "Killing Aurors is a serious offense, boy, one I won't let you get away with."

Harry watched the man momentarily, an image of his fat Uncle Vernon flashing through his mind's eye. He shook his head, he had always hated that word. "Could a boy do all of this?" he wondered aloud, gesturing around to all of the bodies. "Try again, Mad-eye."

"That bother you, does it? Being called a boy?" Moody responded icily, picking up on that fact well. "Well, _boy_, tell me your name and maybe I won't have to anymore."

"Call me what you want," Harry simply replied, outwardly showing no more of the distaste he felt over hearing that word directed at him again after so long.

Mad-eye grunted in annoyance. "Well, what does your master call you?"

"Master?"

"Yes, the Dark Lord. What does he call you?"

Harry merely sent him an amused look. The man assumed he was a Death Eater? That was rather offensive.

Moody's eye spun impatiently. "Only askin' so I know what name to put down when I send you to Azkaban."

Harry's brow rose. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we? You're so certain you'll be sending me there?"

"Yep," Moody bit back, his glare hardening. "That's what I do, boy, I capture criminals like you. You should know that if you've heard of me."

"Azkaban can't hold me," Harry stated, readying the Elder Wand. Moody too seemed to realize the time for conversation was coming to a close and did the same. "You're out of your league here, Mad-eye."

"We'll see about that," the man gruffly responded. Without taking his eyes off of Harry, he addressed his protege. "Tonks, stand back and send for help while I keep him busy."

Tonks spluttered, "But sir, I c-"

"Just do it!" he ordered, making it clear there would be no debate. "Get everyone. I want this Auror-killing scum off the streets."

She reluctantly acquiesced, cautiously stepping away. Harry let her for the sole reason that he knew he'd be gone by the time backup arrived. Still, he followed her movements with his eyes. Moody decided to take advantage of that.

"Shouldn't let your attention wander in a fight," Mad-eye barked out as he sent a powerful bone-breaker speeding toward him in an attempt to catch him off guard.

Harry wordlessly slapped the spell away with his wand, most of his attention having never left the man. Moody cast another, followed by two bludgeoners and a fiery curse in quick succession.

The Auror was very fast, he would give him that, but Harry was faster. He slid around each of them, snapping off a spell or two of his own through the narrow openings. Moody dealt with those counters accordingly, casting himself a shield for the worst of them.

It was here that Harry realized he could no longer deny that he was in trouble - his magical reserves were dangerously low. There was no way he'd be able to last through a full magical duel like this. Even casting only basic combat spells as he'd been doing up until now would soon become a task.

It seemed he would need to end this much quicker than he'd initially thought, yet he couldn't just run. While he'd probably succeed in his escape, of course he would, that wasn't the issue. No, Moody had seen through the Glamour. The man had seen his real face.

Obliviation was entirely out of the question, for two glaring reasons. Both Dumbledore and Snape would be able to break through any memory alterations he set up, and he couldn't risk that happening. That meant that in order to prevent causing unnecessary problems later, Mad-eye would have to die. There was just no way around it.

But how would he accomplish killing the Auror with only what was left remaining of his already severely depleted magical reserves?

He noticed Tonks not far away, sending off Patronus charms one after the other. There was her to consider too, as she would definitely jump in to help Moody if he needed it, despite his orders forbidding it. Could he take on both of them in this condition...he wasn't sure.

Moody dispelled his shield, swishing and slashing his wand. "Bombarda Maxima!"

Harry jumped backward as the curse exploded against the floor in front of him, flinging debris and dust all over in a more large-scale effect than Harry's own similar tactic. Shielding himself against physical injury and the extra blasting curse Mad-eye sent into the smoky haze surrounding them both, the way to end this suddenly came to him.

It would have to be timed perfectly though, and he'd have wait for the right spell to come his way. He'd only get the one chance. That meant afterward he'd need to use something that would take care of the wizened Auror in one strike.

OOOOO

Even as the dust settled and normal visibility was restored, Moody didn't let up. Able to see clearly thanks to his magical eye, he threw spell after spell in a torrent of efficient wandwork that would awe anyone, ranging all the way from stunners to organ liquifiers. But it wasn't enough.

Nothing connected, to the Auror's disgruntlement. The unnamed stranger managed to either parry or in most cases dodge and twist away from everything! Even when he snapped off a series of widespread spells, the brat still slipped through them unscathed.

It was irritating is what it was.

The kid looked exhausted, nonetheless, much more than he had moments ago. He wasn't returning any spells either, just standing there ready to avoid anything else Mad-eye sent at him.

Moody narrowed his eye. Something definitely wasn't right...what was he planning? Was he trying to get him to wear himself out, maybe? Possible, but Moody could see the boy himself looked like he was about to pass out, and he'd kept his magical eye trained on him this entire time. There had to be more to this though, he decided.

"Already tired out?" Moody taunted. "Where's all that confidence from before, eh? Not even gonna try sending something my way?"

The boy didn't answer, outright ignoring him. If there was one thing Mad-eye Moody couldn't stand, it was young upstarts acting like this.

"Well? I asked you a question, _boy_. Or are you already giving up? This duel hasn't even started yet!"

There was no response for a moment, but then the kid revealed a tight smile. "Then how about we start, Mad-eye, yes?"

"You talk big for a youngster," Moody gruffly acknowledged. "But I've yet to see you back it up. So you took my Aurors off-guard, is that all you can do?"

Harry's smile grew. "Maybe it is, maybe it is n-"

Moody didn't let him finish, instead cutting him off with a sharp thrust of his wand to send a blue spell whistling by as the kid hastily side-stepped it. The boy's obvious annoyance at the interruption had the reinstated Auror contorting his scarred face into a gnarled grin.

"That was rude."

"Oh, was it now?" Moody retorted, swinging his wand and slashing it as he released a pair of spells at his arrogant opponent. While those two spells weren't the deadliest by far, they were proven to be the quickest combo any wizard could cast together and therefore his best chance at catching the slippery brat off-guard, just as the boy had done to his Aurors.

However, he immediately tensed, not missing the sudden sharpening of the boy's eyes as his spells left the tip of his wand. Not good. It was as if whatever he was waiting for was h-

"Yes, it was," was the boy's only response as he watched the spells close in.

An instant before getting hit by the Impedimenta, the first of his two spells, the Death Eater scum abruptly whipped his wand away from the approaching lights. It was only then that Moody realized where the boy's wand was now pointing at, or rather at whom, but by that time it was too late.

Even his magical eye had trouble following what happened next. One second the kid was staring down his Impedimenta-Expelliamus duo with a glint in his eye, and the next Tonks appeared in his place to take the full (albeit relatively tame) brunt of his spells unawares.

"It's over."

Moody spun at the boy's mutter, only to see a glimpse of the black curse that captured him in the ribs halfway through his turn.

Pain. That was all there was as he dropped down to the ground. Vision blurry, he gasped against the burning agony. His body was shutting down, he could feel it.

_That was where Tonks had been standing...how-_

Pain, and it all went dark.

OOOOO

Harry ripped off the Cloak and stumbled into the subway tram, just as the doors slid closed.

He weakly slouched into the nearest open seat, ignoring the odd stares he was attracting from the assorted Muggles in the half-full compartment. Both the Notice-me-not and his Glamour had dissipated as soon as he'd left King's Cross station, a testament to his current less than ideal status.

He swept a hand through his drenched locks, glad to be out of the downpour he'd had to fight on the way here. Looking over his shoulder and out the rain-spattered window, Harry relaxed and let out a breath as the tram began moving.

_Good, no one had followed._

This certainly wasn't how he'd planned on spending his first hour here. Running into Mad-eye had been very unlucky, to put it mildly. It had nearly ruined everything. He'd managed to take care of that hiccup, fortunately, so things would hopefully run smoother from here on out.

It had been close though. Closer than anything had been for him in quite a long time.

He didn't like it. His exhausted core had almost been the death of him. And after that substitution spell followed by the dark Viera curse, he'd had next to nothing left. It was so bad that as he'd exited the station, he couldn't hold up either of his disguise charms any longer, nor could he have apparated away like he'd originally wanted to.

Which was why he now found himself on the Muggle subway. He'd have to travel this way until he had enough strength to apparate, it seemed.

Disgusted with his weakness, Harry glanced around the tram car bitterly. The Muggles had stopped staring, he noted, having by this time lost interest in the strange man. One thing he could at least rely on here in the Muggle world was that he wouldn't be recognized. That was something good, he supposed.

For the moment, it appeared as if he were safe. Realizing he should take advantage of this while he still could, Harry closed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably beneath his damp robes as the fatigue finally began overwhelming him.

OOOOO

Tonks unsteadily picked herself up from the ground, pushing the Healer away as she stumbled forward. She froze next to her mentor's body and stared, being checked by another couple of Healers from the group that had just arrived at King's Cross.

"Miss, please," the medi-wizard trying to examine her pleaded impatiently. "Let me take a look at those cuts for you."

Tonks sent him a dirty glance, "I'll be fine. Scrapes and bruises is all they are. Go help someone that needs it."

She took a shaky breath as the man huffed and walked away. Of the squad of Aurors that had fought that day, it looked as if she was one of the only ones to survive. The medics had already transported Gordon and Tract to St. Mungo's, the only two still alive despite their grievous injuries.

Moody...

The scene flashed in front of her once again. The dark curse slicing into his side as he turned too late, the black energy bubbling angrily before the site even started bleeding, multiplying the effect to brutally rip further into her mentor's torso as he collapsed to the ground not twenty yards from her. His magical eye had popped out, rolling off the landing and into the train tracks nearby.

Mad-eye hadn't gotten up to fetch his fake eye, not even when she'd shouted for him, demanding he get up. Even now, the expression of shock still hadn't left his lifeless face.

That strange man had done this. Or boy, as Moody had kept saying. She seethed, her fists clenching. He'd used some sort of switching spell to trade places with her in order to maneuver behind Moody and attack before his magical eye could catch it.

And it was her fault! If she'd been more on guard, more on her toes, maybe she could have dodged it or blocked it or...no. No, who was she kidding? There was no way she would have seen something like that coming. Moody clearly hadn't either, otherwise he would have been ready to deal with it.

She'd never heard of a switching spell being used on entire bodies for Merlin's sake, and she doubted Moody had either!

Then to have successfully used it in a combat scenario, and on a highly-experienced Auror no less! Such a thing was no easy feat. Moody was never that careless. Constant Vigilance, he always said. To have gotten one over on Mad-eye Moody was a rare task to be had, yet that _bastard_ had done it.

And after she'd been disarmed and Moody had fallen, she stood no chance. She'd jumped in front of her mentor's body in case there was some possibility of his survival, but that move had only allowed the Death Eater an easier, closer target. He'd had her frozen down the sights of both his wand and hers before she'd had the chance to follow up with so much as a cry of bloody murder. But even if she would have had more time to do something, with no wand she was practically helpless anyway.

From there she couldn't have done anything else against that powerful foe. She'd lost...pathetically.

The Glamoured man had paused as he'd held her at wandpoint. Tonks thought she had been about to die in that moment, and had almost sunken to the floor just from the hopelessness of it all. But she'd ultimately managed to hold her stance, defeated though it was. She figured it was better to go out proud and on her feet as opposed to the alternative.

Except, here she was. Not dead. That confused her. She just didn't understand it...

_"What's your name?" The man asked, both his and her wand directed at her sagging stature. She'd given up, and he knew it._

_She didn't answer immediately, finding it rather pointless. He just looked at her expectantly, however. It was unnerving enough that she changed her mind. "Tonks."  
_

_"Ah," he responded, oddly knowingly.  
_

_She spat nastily in reply. "You're gonna kill me like you did him, aren't you?"  
_

_He ignored her, walking a bit closer. She tensed up as he neared, shutting her eyes against the inevitable. It looked like this was it. How was he going to do it? Was it going to be fast, or slow? Painful? _

_"Goodbye, Tonks."_

_ She opened her eyes in surprise, hearing a light whoosh and the sound of a fluttering cloak as she did. _

_He was gone. Just...gone.  
_

_She looked down in wonder at her feet to see her wand laying there. She collapsed to her knees in disbelief, finally glancing around and taking in the cruel devastation of her fellow Aurors.  
_

Why hadn't he killed her? It didn't make any sense, especially when he hadn't had any qualms with annihilating everyone else. She shook her head, coming out of her thoughts to hear the conversation between the two Healers looking over Moody.

"-ell. No pulse. He's gone," one, a brunette woman, declared as she pocketed her wand. "Pronouncing him dead at the scene, time is-"

"Hold on," the other interrupted, raising his hand up. The older wizard hurriedly waved his wand over Moody's body, clearly having noticed something the other medi-witch had not.

Interpreting the readings from his wand, the older man gasped. "This man may yet be saved!"


	2. Proposition

Now to take a step back. This chapter should give you a better idea of what's going on.

* * *

Chapter 2

Proposition

Ministry of Magic - Minister of Magic's office

Evening After Departure

"You think it worked?"

The odd look in her eye gave him pause, but it soon faded. "The Unspeakables were hopeful, as everything appeared to proceed as anticipated and the subject is gone-"

"You mean Harry Potter," she interjected lightly.

"Yes, Penelope," the Minister nodded tiredly. "Potter. Still, it is impossible to know for certain one way or the other."

"But what do _you_ think, dear?" his wife asked gently, massaging his shoulders from behind his chair. "What are your instincts telling you?"

"I do not know," he repeated softly, closing his eyes as he enjoyed her touch. "I believe that if Potter succeeds, we will have acquired a powerful magical artifact to help us in this coming war. And if not, well, I will not be the only one who feels we are much better off without him here to complicate matters."

The massage abruptly ended there, unfortunately. He opened his eyes in discontent, sighing as he rotated around to look at his beautiful spouse. "If only I had the time to enjoy your massages everyday, Pen."

She smiled slightly, nodding. "Yes, if only. Just how long must we wait before we know if he was successful?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "We don't know. It depends on how quickly Potter can retrieve it, if he even manages to arrive there unharmed in the first place. All we can do now is wait, and in the meantime prepare against the Americans in every way we can."

His wife pouted at the answer, before looking back to him. "Your meeting with him yesterday, may I view it?"

He gave her an indulgent smile. "You know I've already discussed this more with you than I should have - this is classified information," he said gently. Before she could voice her disagreement, however, he conceded. "But yes, I suppose you can. I do always value your advice, dear, maybe you'll see something that I've missed."

Her face lit up at his response and she turned to the cabinet standing in the corner of the room. "Can we do it now, Percy?"

"Yes of course, Pen," Percy Weasley nodded, a bit exasperated as she hastily pulled out the Pensieve. His wife always was the impatient one. "Go ahead without me, the memory should be in the bowl."

He'd already been through it several times too many, he'd rather not see it again. Harry Potter had a way of getting under people's skin regardless of whether or not he had the intention to, even the normally so rigidly composed Draco Malfoy was no exception it seemed.

Yes, he'd very much prefer not to further agitate his thoughts with musings of Potter. Nevertheless, as his wife dipped into the Pensieve, all the Minister of Magic found himself thinking of was yesterday's meeting.

OOOOO

Department of Mysteries - East Sector

Day Before Departure

"Is he secure?"

"Yes, sir," his Undersecretary confirmed. "You can see him when you are ready."

"Very well," Percy said reluctantly, habitually adjusting his glasses as his young aide ducked out of the chamber with a nod. Looking to one of the two others still present, he sighed. "And this is absolutely necessary, Abbott?"

The hooded figure looked to her companion on the right before turning back and answering. "Yes. In accordance with wizarding law, something of this magnitude requires the Minister's presence as witness."

"You believe he will agree to this?" Percy asked doubtfully, glancing at the other cloaked wizard standing nearby.

"He will. He has no reason not to," the Head Unspeakable replied tersely. "Unfortunately we cannot force him to accept, but it will not come to that. The incentives are enough that he will see reason."

"Potter is stubborn, Minister," Draco Malfoy drawled as he stepped through the door behind them. "This is unwise. Even if he agrees, who's to say he won't sabotage everything just out of spite?"

"Malfoy," the Head Unspeakable greeted distastefully. "And just who let you in here?"

The blonde pureblood scowled, but before he could retort Percy spoke up, "I did, Pucey. I value Mr. Malfoy's input."

There was silence as the Head Unspeakable swallowed his scornful response.

"Well? Do you disagree?" Malfoy spouted. "Giving Potter this kind of freedom could be disastrous. Relying on him for something of this importance..."

"Your feelings on Potter's existence are well known, Malfoy," Pucey deadpanned from beneath his Unspeakable hood. "You are biased and therefore any argument you make cannot be considered rational."

"So you believe it is a good idea sending off a wizard we've imprisoned for the last three years to do our bidding, in the hopes that he will follow through for us?" The Malfoy patriarch scoffed in disbelief. "Your mind truly has decayed in your old age, hasn't it, Pucey?"

"He will be under Oath and a binding contract!" the Head Unspeakable growled, his impatience clear. "You do not even have all of the information, yet you complain just because he is your enemy. He is our only option, anyone else will not have so much as a _chance_ of surviving the Trip, no matter how much any of us likes it. And trust me, I hate it just as much as you do given the atrocities he's committed in the past, but Potter is the only one in Britain. It's either him or no one!"

"Then let it b-"

Pucey snarled. "You should not be down here in the first place, Malfoy! Neither you nor your opinions belong here. The fact that you know Unspeakable identities is a serious breach in protocol that should not have been let by so lightly."

This time the man's ire turned to the Minister.

"Enough!" Percy declared sharply, brokering no further argument. "Draco has my blessing, Pucey. He is an important adviser and you will respect my decision to bring him into this. Now, you both make valid points, but our choices are undeniably limited at the moment."

Percy closed his tired eyes, running a hand through red hair streaked with grey. "Harry Potter is our best shot at this," he stated firmly, eyes snapping open. "We will get him to agree by whatever means necessary. I am sorry, Draco."

Malfoy did not respond immediately, his lip slowly curling in disgust. He finally turned to face the Minister directly. "Potter may be powerful, but trusting him to do anything for us is a mistake! Have you not considered hiring out internationally? Certainly there is at least one other out there in the world that would do it for the right price."

"Of course we have, Malfoy," Pucey answered in annoyance. "We have gone over every possible option. Potter is the only choice here. Stop wasting our time!"

Percy sent him a look before addressing his closest adviser. "Draco, there are only half a dozen known worldwide. All of them are entrenched in the loyalties of their own country. None of them would agree to something like this, to the strengthening of Britain in this way."

Malfoy looked decidedly unhappy, but reluctantly nodded.

"Excellent," the Head Unspeakable sardonically replied, forcefully pushing things forward. "Now, if we are ready to begin..."

"Yes," Percy allowed, brushing aside Pucey's tone. "Let us go in."

OOOOO

Department of Mysteries - East Sector Holding Areas

Nodding to the nondescript guard posted outside the steel door, Percy moved through the doorway as soon as it opened, closely followed by Draco Malfoy and the two Unspeakables.

The small visitation room they entered was bare apart from a chair and table in its center. Light filled every nook and cranny of the room with no apparent source, leaving no shadows.

The group all squinted momentarily against the harsh light as they automatically circled around one side of the table, even as their eyes alighted upon the lone figure perched in the uncomfortable seat across from them. The seated man likewise peered back at them, his telltale emerald eyes glaring.

None of them said anything right away, taking in the man's appearance. It always jarred anyone that had known him when he was younger.

He wore nothing but a pair of plain shorts, standard prisoner garb that provided the barest hints of modesty, leaving the pale skin of the rest of his body visible for all to see. The muscular, healthy body frame the man had sported before imprisonment was no longer present, having degraded due to malnutrition. And while his emaciation was not severe, his skinniness was still quite noticeable in comparison to his previous stature only three years prior.

Scars from battles of the past were scattered over his torso, some more noticeable than others. A runic tattoo of some sort ran vertically down his left side, from below his armpit down to just above his waist. Another one wrapped around his right bicep and twisted down around his forearm.

The raven black hair the man had inherited from his father had become long and untidy from the extended period of not being properly cared for. This, in combination with his unshaven face altered his appearance a startling amount, so much so that were it not for the dreaded lightning bolt scar there was no doubt he could easily be mistaken for an entirely different person.

And even that erstwhile symbol of the Chosen One had faded. One had to look very closely to even notice it. What had once been a striking beacon of hope and the mark of a hero was now merely a faint marring of Potter's forehead, shrouded in infamy as the emblem of a revolutionary. Its real significance was only truly known by those old enough to remember the struggles of the past, a number it seemed was rapidly dwindling as time passed.

Yet, all of that was nothing compared to how the man before them looked as if he couldn't be any older than 20. Someone might think just that if they saw him strolling through Diagon Alley, but every occupant of that room knew better.

Harry Potter took the contrasting measurements in physical and mental age to a whole new level.

Potter's piercing orbs moved between them, waiting for one of them to explain why they were there.

"It's been awhile, Percy," he finally said when nobody spoke up. One corner of his mouth curved up slightly as he turned to one of the hooded Unspeakables. "Hannah."

Clearly knowing it would infuriate him, Potter's glance passed over the already sneering Malfoy and landed on the other hooded person standing behind the Minister. "And you," he paused, tilting his head at the Head Unspeakable. "I've seen you before. Pucey, right?"

The Head Unspeakable grunted unconcernedly, ignoring Potter's obviously enhanced eyesight. It was certainly unfortunate that no cloaking charm could block it, but that ever-present ability of Potter's was no new development. Rather it served more as a small memento from the days of the great Albus Dumbledore, a wizard who was also known to have possessed that same ability. The esteemed Light wizard had without a doubt seen fit to pass on the secrets of that technique to his golden boy before perishing.

"Enough of the niceties, Potter," Pucey leaned forward, putting his hands down on the table. "We have a proposition for you."

Potter stared, the smirk on his face sobering. "Oh? You need my help?"

"Mr. Potter," Percy began importantly. "There is something we need done, something that would greatly assist Britain in the war we all know is coming. Something only you can accomplish, or rather, can survive."

Potter's eyes met the Minister's in amusement. "You really haven't changed, have you Percy? Still as pompous and formal as ever."

"Potter," the Head Unspeakable warned.

The infamous icon rolled his eyes. "What? You expect me to be civil after I've been stuck down here?"

"Just listen to what we have to say, Harry," Abbott implored, removing her now useless concealment hood. "You won't regret it."

Harry looked at her for a moment, before turning his unimpressed gaze back to the Minister. "Alright. I'm listening."

Percy adjusted his spectacles. "Yes, well, as I was saying. We need your help. There's something we'd like you to...procure for us. It's a bit more comp-"

"And what would I get in return?" Potter interrupted. "Why would I help you with _anything_?"

"See?" Malfoy suddenly jumped in. "Potter w-"

"Ah, Malfoy," Potter interrupted again, his eyes twinkling with mirth as his mouth twisted. "Didn't see you there. How long has it been anyway? Must have been quite awhile - Time just hasn't been very kind to you, has it, old friend?"

The sneer the blonde pureblood directed Potter's way could have melted a Muggle.

"Oh, and how is dear Aurora?" Potter continued unabated, his mocking tone adding fuel to the already simmering fire.

"One more word about her and I will kill you, Potter!" Malfoy snarled out in warning, his hand tightly gripping the handle of the wand at his side.

"Malfoy," Pucey snapped, glaring at the fuming blonde in irritation. "He's baiting you. Calm down or leave." Then the man narrowed his eyes at Potter. "And Potter, the Minister was getting to your compensation. You'd do well to shut the bloody fuck up and hear him out."

Percy cleared his throat, intent on moving things along, but Potter shifted his glance back to the silenced Malfoy, his voice lowering. "Your daughter was always quite the fiery one, Malfoy. Oddly enough, she reminded me a lot of Percy's late sister." The emerald eyes turned icy as they jumped to the Minister. "You remember her, don't you, Perce? Ginny. Gin. The one you h-"

"Enough! That-" Percy burst out but stopped himself, visibly regaining his composure before proceeding. "We are not here to discuss the past, Mr. Potter. We are here to talk about the future. _Your_ future."

Potter considered them skeptically.

"_My_ future, you say? Must be rather important, if the Minister of Magic and the Head Unspeakable are visiting me personally. Well then, how can I help you?" Potter asked, blatant sarcasm dripping from his every word.

"Mind yourself, Potter," Pucey warned levelly, giving the wizard a stern look. "You are being given an opportunity here."

Abbott leaned forward, agreeing with her superior. "Really, Harry. Listen."

Potter scowled.

"That's the second time you've said that, Hannah, but I haven't heard anything worth listening to so far." He looked between them, finally rolling his eyes. "I guess I don't have another option though, do I? I am stuck here after all. And I suppose I have you to thank for that this time as well?"

Abbott gave him a short nod, following his gaze down to the collective runic drawings on the floor surrounding his chair.

Potter tilted his head, curiously eyeing his feet. "Are these the same as last time?"

"Yes."

"Ah," Potter answered somberly, his expression turning wry. "Can't say I'm surprised, but I have to admit. I was hoping you'd gotten lazy transporting me. Would have made breaking out so much easier."

Unspeakable Abbott shook her head. "You know as well as anybody that you can't break through my wards, Harry. We've talked about this. Now, please, stop interrupting. Minister, go ahead."

Potter snorted.

"Yes, well," Percy once again cleared his throat. "As I was saying. There is a...job, I suppose would be the most apt term, that we'd like you to complete for us. If you accept, then I would be willing to make some concessions to you and your situation here."

"Such as?" Potter prompted, an eyebrow raised.

"Your freedom for one, and an official pardoning of your crimes," Percy returned without blinking, a sharp contrast to his earlier hesitancy. "Though I feel I must caution you, it will be dangerous. You probably won't survive. We have no guarantee you will even arrive where we wish to send you. But, you are our best hope in these desperate times."

"So what is it then...this job?" Interest sparked in Potter's eyes. "And what makes you want me for it? Isn't there some other lackey you have that would dutifully step in front of an AK for you if you asked?"

"We're getting to all that. Tell me," Pucey spoke up. "What do you know of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem?"

Potter shrugged. "Just that it supposedly made whoever wore it smarter. Voldemort used it as one of his Horcruxes and it was destroyed, but that's common knowledge to you Unspeakables. I believe you even have it's blackened pieces locked up somewhere down here. Why do you ask?"

"_You_ destroyed it, correct?"

"Yes, it contained a portion of Riddle's vile soul. Your point?"

"We need it. One that is whole," was all the Head Unspeakable said.

Potter looked bewildered. "The Diadem? It was unique. There was only one in the world and you already have its shattered remains, how does this have anything to do with me?"

"That is why you're here, Potter," Malfoy sneered impatiently, finally speaking up after standing stiffly for the last several minutes. "You're going to get Britain a new one."

Potter stared at the Malfoy Patriarch, before chuckling. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you there. I may be powerful, but my skill is in combat and a few other obscure branches of magic. Not crafting or repairing magical artifacts. Everyone knows that."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Potter," Percy stated seriously. "Draco did not mean for you to create a new Diadem or even bring about its repair. We would like you to find and retrieve us a different Diadem."

Potter's brow knitted as he opened his mouth, before closing it and opening it again. "Forgive me if I'm a bit confused here, but didn't we just talk about this? The Diadem is destroyed. It was one-of-a-kind, you can't just get a new one because you want it! Where would you have me look? Merlin's palace?"

"Harry," Abbott sighed. "You've heard of alternate universes, have you not?"

Potter was silent for moment, gauging whether or not he was being had. Eventually he must have concluded that the female Unspeakable was dead serious, and cleared his dry throat.

"What? Like parallel dimensions and all that?" he asked doubtfully. "But how does that have anything to do with..."

"Yes, Potter," Pucey confirmed as he saw Potter's eyes widen. "The _job_ is for you to grab Ravenclaw's Diadem from another world and bring it back. Do that for us and you'll be a free man."

"And this is possible?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause.

"I admit, I have read what little material I've come across on the subject, but never have I heard of any real attempts." Potter studied the four of them for a moment. "As far as I know, there has only ever been speculation and theories about such a thing. How do you even know this is going to work?"

"While it is true that there have been no successful experiments thus far, the idea has been researched quite thoroughly and we believe given the right subject with enough magical power, a trip could be successful," Percy readily answered. "Unspeakable Abbott has been leading the research team on this project for the last 5 years."

Abbott nodded. "Much of what we've learned has been from indirect means, but we're confident enough to test sending a wizard of your caliber, Harry. We're even able to theoretically set the parameters of what kind of world you'll land in, as long as the initial send-off is successful of course."

Potter looked thoughtful. "Sounds...intriguing, and at the same time, dreadfully risky. I do have one question. Why Ravenclaw's Diadem? What's so important about that one artifact? You going to wear it, Percy? Don't know how much good that will do you."

The Minister ignored the slight, "The remnants of the Diadem have also been researched extensively. We've discovered there was more to Rowena Ravenclaw's artifact then merely increasing one's mental prowess. If we can get a hold of another one, it would give us an advantage in the coming years of war. That, however, is all you need to know about at this point in time, Mr. Potter."

Potter frowned, but did not push any further. His eyes narrowed in thought.

"I still think this is a mistake," Malfoy complained waspishly. "Potter cannot be relied upon."

Pucey growled impatiently, ignoring Malfoy. "Do you accept the job or not? Be warned, you'll be forced to take an Oath and sign a Contract ensuring you complete the task. The Contract will also outline the terms of your release should you return alive."

"I don't know," Potter muttered, cocking an eyebrow. "Kind of sounds like a suicide mission to me. Are you certain this is not just a clever way to get rid of me?"

Percy coughed. "I will be honest with you, Mr. Potter. I have never liked you, not when I first met you and you poisoned my family against me and definitely not now. But, this is very important, so important that Britain's outcome in this inevitable war against the overwhelming American and Japanese forces could very well depend on the success or failure of your mission. That is how desperate we are. Were we not so worried, we would never attempt something so brazen as sending you off like this, but unfortunately that is not the case."

Potter smiled grimly, "Fair enough, I suppose. The feelings have always been mutual I assure you."

Percy blinked. "Yes, as I expected, but I am not finished. Your violent history and the overall slim chances of all of this succeeding make this gambit even riskier, yet as Minister I must still try if there is even a glimmer of hope, for it means the difference between the victory and defeat of this nation. The only high point in all of this is that should you fail, at least I nor the rest of Britain will ever see you again and you'll be somebody else's problem. You'll never darken our doorstep again."

Everyone was quiet after the Minister stopped talking, even Potter, who oddly seemed a bit amused.

Pucey grunted, "Your personal affects will also be returned to you. You shouldn't find yourself needing much apart from your wand though, if you're smart about it. If you survive the Trip, it should be a quick affair. Stay low, find the Diadem, take it, then activate the return device."

"So that's how I'd get back? Some device?"

"Yes," Abbott took over. "It's designed much like the arrays we'll be using to send you off, but it will trace your path on the way there, so to speak, so that it can then follow it back to this world when you activate it."

Potter dipped his head in understanding, his brow creased as he processed everything. There was another moment of contemplation before he suddenly shook his head, the serious look on his face turning to disbelief.

"And what if I can't find the Diadem? No, better yet, how am I going to find it? It could be anywhere in that world. Or what if it is destroyed as it is has been here?"

Unspeakable Abbott glanced over at her superior before answering.

"Yes, there are many uncertainties here. You will have to figure out your best course of action once you arrive, and it is very probable that there will be complications. Nobody is denying any of that, Harry, but rest assured we will assist the most we are able. For instance, you remember me mentioning that we can control certain parameters of the dimension you'll land in? Well, if we are correct in our adjustments, then you will be sent to a world not much different than ours. We obviously can't specify every little detail about the world you get sent to, but if we also ensure that you arrive in a time where you knew the Diadem's location it should make it quite easy for you to obtain."

Potter scowled. "Now there's time travel involved too? This is getting ridiculous!"

"I suppose that's one way to put it," Abbot remarked slowly. "But it will only help you. Think about what I just said, Harry! The best we can do for you is to send you to a time where you knew exactly where the pristine Ravenclaw's Diadem was located..." she trailed off as she noticed Potter's dawning look of understanding.

"So-"

"Yes, Potter," Malfoy haughtily cut in. "Our Hogwarts days."

"Your seventh year, to be precise," Percy added. "It was at the end of that year that you destroyed the original Diadem, yes?"

"Yes, it was," Potter affirmed distractedly, now deep in thought. "It was in the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts."

Pucey stepped forward, leaning onto the table. "And with your unnatural youth, you should have no trouble gaining access to it at Hogwarts."

"And that's it then?" Potter suddenly asked aloud, as if he was saying it as much to them as he was saying it to himself. "All I have to do is get thrown into a different dimension, steal their Diadem, and make the return trip? Without dying."

"To put it simply, yes, that is the job," Pucey confirmed, pausing before going on. "Now, the question is, do you accept?"

"We will of course go over more of the smaller details should you agree to this undertaking," Percy commented carefully, watching Potter for any signs of his response.

Potter was quiet, looking down unseeingly at the tabletop. Then he looked up, eyes flashing.

"Not sure I can say no with my freedom on the table like this."

"So you'll do it? You accept this task?"

"Yes. I accept."


End file.
